


Why Not a Chicken?

by NiceTryMoron (Nononlnkink)



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Cooking, Fluff, Lazy One-shot, M/M, Silly, These nerds get to be happy, Who Cares About Formating?, not me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-24
Updated: 2017-11-24
Packaged: 2019-02-06 04:52:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 956
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12810012
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nononlnkink/pseuds/NiceTryMoron
Summary: It's Thanksgiving for the Reds and Blues. Might as well celebrate together and split up the massive amounts of cooking, right?





	Why Not a Chicken?

**Author's Note:**

> Pure, 100% organic, free-range fluff. 
> 
> Happy Thanksgiving, y'all! Have this lazy one-shot for it.

“Is that doubled or not?” Church tried to peer over the large bowl to see the recipe in front of Tucker. Tucker looked down at it and shrugged.

“Why double it?”

Church rolled his eyes. “You seriously think this is enough?”

“Yeah, Tucker! Stupid!” Caboose had been sitting quietly at the table, busy coloring in paper turkeys. 

Tucker shot Caboose a glare. “I’m just saying we could make it twice. No biggie.”

“That takes double the effort, Tuck.”

“That’s still doubled!”

Church grumbled under his breath as he went back to stirring. Tucker leaned back in his chair and watched as the shorter man set down the bowl to hunt down the saran-wrap. Church wrapped it over the top of the bowl and set it aside. He then began to dig around inside the fridge. Tucker leaned further back, nearly fell over, and quickly righted himself. 

“This would be going a lot quicker if I had some help,” Church’s muffled voice came from the fridge. 

“Nah.” Tucker attempted to lean back again. “Wash said he’d help. Where’d he go?”

“To help the Reds!” Caboose frowned at his current turkey. “Why do you think Thanksgiving is all about turkeys?”

“No idea.”

Church leaned back to examine the milk in his hands. His face morphed into an expression of disgust at the expiration date. “Wash wanted to make sure that Sarge didn’t blow up the base trying to turn the turkey into a cyborg or something.”

“Oh. Probably a good thing Wash is there then.”

“Yeah. Now get off your ass and help me. These rolls take for-fucking-ever to make as is.”

\--

Washington had arrived to find that Sarge had already been banished from the kitchen and Grif had taken charge. Simmons had been given stuffing responsibility while Grif dealt with the turkey. Lopez had disappeared not too long ago - not that Washington blamed him. Even without Sarge in the mix, the kitchen was a chaotic mess. Donut was missing as well. Sarge had simply responded with  _ ‘he’s on a secret mission that no dirty Blue would ever think of’ _ so Washington had let it be.

“Sims, please tell me that you checked if that was salt.”

Simmons poked a finger into the jar and tasted it. “Shit.” He hurried off to switch it.

Grif rolled his eyes. “We’re doing this right. Since you’re here, Wash, mind digging through those drawers for a thermometer?”

Washington moved to do as asked, but jumped back when Simmons came running over. “I don’t think we have salt.”

“Are you kidding.”

“No?”

“Alright, fine,” Grif turned back to the turkey, “Wash can you go get some from the Blues? Simmons, you look for the thermometer.”

\--

Washington stepped into the Blue base kitchen in time to hear an angry shout from Church and Caboose’s laughter. 

“I fucking told you to watch the oven!”   


“Sorry!” Tucker’s voice was apologetic. “I’m sure it’s fine?”

The sudden whiff of burnt cooking said otherwise. Washington poked his head around the corner to see Church threatening Tucker with a spatula. “Is everything alright?”

“No!” Church whipped around to level his new-found weapon at Washington. “The roll dough is fucking burnt!”

“The dough?”

“Yes!”

“How?”

Tucker immediately found Caboose’s colorings interesting. “Nice blue.”

“Thank you,” Caboose beamed.

Church pinched his nose and sighed. “I’ll figure something out. How are the Reds doing?”

“They haven’t burned anything.” Washington laughed when Church swatted at him. “Why don’t you go over there and I’ll hold the fort down here? We’ll finish setting everything up.”

Everyone seemed much more interested in his idea.

\--

By the time everything had been set up, Grif and Church had agreed that the food was ready. The Reds and Church carefully brought over the food to Blue base. The base was clean and the living room now had two card tables set up. Caboose had just finished taping his turkeys all over the walls. Washington greeted them all with a grin.

“Nice job,” Church said with a quick peck on Washington’s cheek. “I was worried that it would be a wreck.”

Tucker pulled out a chair and flopped down. “Wash was worse than you, man.”

Caboose happily helped Simmons set everything on the table. Everyone sat down, but before they could start digging in, Sarge coughed to get their attention. He raised his plastic cup. “We did good this time, lads. No one died this week, even with all the cookin’. I’d darn-well say that this mission was a success.”

“Of course it was, sir!” Simmons piped up before getting a hard elbow to the side from Grif. 

Sarge gave the pair a bemused look and continued, “Since we did such a fine job, Donut thought we maybe deserved of the real kicker.” Donut beamed and dramatically set two bottles of wine on the table. 

“Holy shit,” Tucker said as he snatched one to look it over. “Holy shit, where did you get this?”

“Double-O Donut always gets what he needs. Now gimme that back so I can open it.”

\--

If everyone was drunk by the time dinner was over, no one would be the wiser. Simmons and Grif had fallen asleep leaning against each the other, hands tightly clasped together. Church was in a surprisingly heated discussion with Caboose, Donut, and Sarge over why Thanksgiving tradition was a turkey and not a  _ fucking chicken, what the fuck?  _ Lopez had dozed off as well - or powered down, no one was really sure anymore - after thanking Washington for another plastic cup filled with motor oil. Washington and Tucker were neck and neck for how much pie they could stuck into their mouths. Overall, everyone was drunk, stuffed, and  _ happy  _ and _ together. _

And they couldn’t be anymore thankful for that.


End file.
